I would have told you if you'd only asked me.

Lately my depression has been spiking like crazy, and I don't know what's wrong with me. I know I've made several major life changes in the past few months and I'm sure that had something to do with it, but honestly I am to the point where I hardly feel human some days. I run on erratic sleep and eating patterns, I have irregular exercise routines and my mood swings are insane. I go from laughing and having an amazing time to curled up in my bed crying ten minutes later.

I love my job. It's highly stressful, fast-paced and demanding but it's amazing. I'm working alongside people who are legends in their fields and I could listen to them talk all day and swap information and discuss the technical aspects of bringing creative visions to life. Sometimes I just sit there in silence trying to absorb everything, realizing that these are the moments I'm going to think about years from now when I'm an old bitter spinster talking about my golden years. I feel like a beta fish thrown into the ocean for sure, way out of my league and in far deeper waters than I've ever swam in before, but I've been treading okay so far. A few missteps, but nothing catastrophic, so all is well in that field.

Part of the problem is money, which is kind of hemorrhaging out of me. I'm making house payments on the house back in Texas and paying rent for my apartment in LA and paying the difference on my hotel room in Ohio that production doesn't cover. That's three living expenses at once, which is insanity. I also had to make the incredibly difficult decision to board Ouija. I didn't want to do it at ALL because the whole point of bringing him out here was to keep him with me and make sure he was safe and had me to socialize with and whatnot, but when we moved to this hotel they have a very strict no-pet policy and no amount of talking to the manager could help me. I couldn't stay at the original hotel because it was a piece of shit with no hot water, filthy conditions and etc, but also because Rob moved over here and wanted me to be close to him for working purposes. It's a LOT easier to walk down the hall to get him for something, or to rendezvous in the lobby and ride to work together, especially since we're sharing a rental car while we're here. So I found a reputable, very nice boarder nearby and they put up Ouija for the month. It hurts my heart and I am so fucking lonely and sad without him, but it had to be done and I know he's in good hands there. At least people are with him throughout the day and he isn't spending fifteen or sixteen hours by himself.

I'm also in such a weird headspace right now and I feel like I'm trapped in a corner in several aspects of my life. Victor makes me so happy and I'm really excited about our relationship, but sometimes I just get sad or take things the wrong way and it's hard for me to tell him why. I'm pretty experienced in being passive aggressive, but also in just tamping down hurt or disappointment and acting like it's no big deal when really my heart is hurting. We haven't talked nearly as much as I had hoped… or thought we would. Sometimes I've asked to Skype or talk and he just isn't in the mood or he's busy with something and of course I shouldn't take it personally but I do. I know he misses me but I guess a big part of my brain feels like if he really missed me that much, he'd be more persistent and he would be the one calling me or trying to Skype with me all the time or something. I don't know. It's likely my own insecurities, which have reared their heads big time lately. I'm surrounded by beautiful people, people in relationships, people on the prowl, everything in between. And I spend a lot of time in my hotel room by myself with too much time inside my own head.

I am painfully aware of my body right now and instead of seeing my weight loss, I am seeing the loose skin, the bulges, the curves where there shouldn't be, the sag to my breasts now. I have pretty much zero confidence at the moment. I've been slumping around set in sneakers and jeans and a shapeless hoodie, a beanie to cover my hair because my hair sucks right now. I want to shave my head maybe. I want to hurt myself sometimes. I want to hide and curl up in baggy shapeless clothes because I am not toned and tight and beautiful like these actresses, because I hear the crew talk about how hot the waitress is, because I see all of the pretty girls around me and I see myself in the mirror and I know the difference. It isn't like I'm on the make or trying to hook up with anyone. I just hate the fact that I am automatically, unquestioningly shoved into the 'friend zone' or worse. I am insecure and on shaky unsteady ice and I am trying to be good at my job so that people don't resent me for being around.

I used to think I was a good photographer until I started meeting these people. Now I don't know if I want to strive to become better or if I just want to sell all of my equipment and keep my head down. I used to think I was interesting until I heard some of the stories my new friends tell, and I realize that I am a sheltered, clueless girl from the south who has never even been out of the country, who has never had some of these experiences.

I just feel very fragile right now, china glass, and it's insanely weird to me that my friends keep telling me I'm 'brave' and 'strong' for coming out here. I'm not brave or strong. I'm total chickenshit. I just fell off the edge of the cliff before I could think to apply the brakes. I don't regret the choices I've made, but it's been a very rough and painful road for me the last few years and even though I love Los Angeles and my job and my boyfriend and the people around me now… I am still as delicate inside as sugar art.

Guess this solves the age-old question of whether you lose your 'fat girl' mentality even when you lose weight. I'm 205 pounds as of this morning, but I still feel as bad about myself as I did at 348. It's actually maybe even a little worse because now I'm "normal fat", I'm the kind of 'fat' that can shop in regular stores and fit in airline seats and squeeze three across in the backseat of a small car, but I still feel horrible and sub-human most of the time. I just found new ways to channel my insecurities and amplify them without a catalyst.

I am still the fat girl in the room even when I'm not.

So sick of myself right now.

Fear on!

Everything's still chaotic on my end, but it is most definitely the best kind of chaos one could hope for.

I am writing this from the Northeast, Ohio to be exact, holed up in a Super 8 with my cat on my feet, a gloomy and frozen day outside the window, and a granola bar in my belly. I've been here for almost a week and honestly I feel like I'm going to pinch myself and wake up at any point in time.

We're working on this movie, and seeing it all come together has been so ridiculously cool that it's sort of absurd. The production office is abuzz with people who do this all day long, every day, and it's fun watching everything fall into place. From script revisions to scheduling to casting I've gotten to glimpse the inner network of people who have to bust their asses to make a movie happen, and it's nowhere near as glamorous as the tabloids make you think it is. It's hard work, a lot of politics and paperwork and phone calls and compromise, but in the end you make art that gets released into the world. You're making something that will (hopefully) entertain thousands, maybe even millions of people. Your footprint will always be there, on video store shelves, on the Internet… debated on forums, dissected in reviews, rehashed at conventions.

Kind of fucking cool.

I've also been working closely with some of the coolest cats I've ever met. Our director, of course, Rob, who I love dearly. He's like a mixture of a boss and a big brother, and he can make me laugh so hard I'm snorting or inspire me to sit down and pound out pages of writing in ways I haven't in years. Watching him work is nothing short of awesome because even now, in the 'boring' pre-production stage rather than the energy of actually shooting, he is a mad genius. He has a thousand things happening at once, dozens of people wanting his individual attention in blocks of time from the moment he wakes up to the time he eventually goes to bed, and he still manages to stay focused and aware of his vision for the film. It's so cool watching him and seeing how he makes this stuff come together from his head to reality.

And of course our DP, Joe. It's so funny, Joe has shot dozens of movies I love, including Repo! The Genetic Opera. He's hilarious, down to earth and really fun to hang out with. He really knows his shit too, which makes me feel about an inch tall as the amateur photographer I am, but it's great listening to him talk gear. You learn more listening to Joe talk for five minutes about his technical set-up than you would taking a college-level crash course in photography.

Andy, our AD, is fucking rad as well. He's a very funny, dry Australian who is a calming, very assertive presence even in the middle of chaos. Andy knows his job inside and out and so even when he's rattled, he's always in charge of his world. Under pressure, he's still amiable and in control, something I definitely envy since I tend to freak out under that kind of demand from others.

The crew's got a lot more people in it of course, but these three boys are the ones I'm working with the most closely right now and so we've spent the most time together since we all got out here. They're fun as hell and really helping me forget things like missing LA and missing Texas and missing my friends and family and being nervous about this job.

It's been pretty inspiring though, for me as an artist as well. I got to write a press release to announce our casting decisions for Fear Clinic, and several of the big horror sites have picked it up and published the information. It's so cool seeing tidbits of something I wrote on sites I go to myself for 'breaking news'. I love setting up interviews and set visits and coordinating with press liaisons. My press release so far has been translated into French, Italian, Spanish and German and posted all over the Internet. I kind of love seeing my Google alerts pop up with new places that have reposted the info about this project that's become pretty dear to my heart. Whatever kind of fan base, critic response or exposure Fear Clinic finds, I will always love it even more for the friends and experiences it's allowing me to have. I'm a very, very lucky girl.

I just closed my eyes and swung.

It's been a very strange week for me, with my head all over the place.

It's so funny, working for Rob… I actually met him in 2009 at Texas Frightmare Weekend in Dallas. He was there promoting his film Laid to Rest and he started talking to my mom and I. We hit it off and I just really liked him; he came across as a genuine, fun guy with an awesome sense of humor. When I checked out his screening, I was really into the movie and told him so. I had no idea that it would lead to a four-year friendship and finally me becoming his personal assistant. Rob's kind of the example of a self-made man, since he came to Hollywood from a rural town in the deep South with eighty bucks in his pocket and a dream to do makeup effects. He has since become one of the most respected FX masters in the genre as well as a successful director on stuff like Teen Wolf, but he's still the same funny, smart, cool-as-hell guy I met in '09. We've been talking a lot at work and it's really helping me get through some rough patches.

My mom was one of Rob's biggest fans; she absolutely loved him. Every time he came to Texas Frightmare she'd make sure to put together a little gift bag for him with stuff like candy and hand sanitizer, and when we'd walk past his table she'd ask him if he wanted her to get him water or soda or a coffee or anything since he was busy signing autographs and couldn't always leave his spot. When we went to LA one time, Rob offered us a tour of his shop back when it was in the old location. Neither of us had ever been to a big working FX shop before, and we were thrilled to see all of the molds and severed heads and monsters lurking around every corner. Rob took pictures of us with the big demon beast from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and my mom carried their dog Slayer around the whole time.

Now it's funny, realizing that I'm actually a part of this now instead of just a big fan. I'm working alongside Rob every day, watching him piece together what I think is going to be one hell of a smart, fun, scary horror film, and it's like a dream come true for me. I've wanted this for my whole life and now I'm actually able to do it to some degree.

I am so far from religion that it's crazy; I can't remember the last time I prayed or anything similar. I gave up on most ideas of Christianity when I was much, much younger and the last straw was when we found out that mom's cancer was terminal. But I do consider myself agnostic, I don't know if there's a cosmic driving force out there or not, but it's kind of interesting to think about. I'm not going to go so far as to say that I KNOW there are no omnipresent beings out there. For all I know it's Cthulhu. But either way, I was driving yesterday and I started talking out loud. Talking to my mom, because it's so hard not to just pick up the phone and call her.

I know how proud she would be of me. She was always pushing me to go to LA, to move out here and chase my dreams, to run them to the ground and do something with myself. She was in love with Los Angeles; she and I used to walk down the boulevard, taking pictures, laughing, talking. She spent some of her childhood in Sacramento and California was always her home away from home; whenever we started to plan a vacation, it was always Los Angeles we mentioned first. She loved it here and I see her in every palm tree, in the hills, in the sparkle of the neon at night. I want to call her and tell her about the chilly canyons at night or the way I saw a coyote dart across the road one night driving home from a friend's house or the way I eat sushi and soy and tofu like it's going out of style. I want her to know that I am shopping in all of these cool little stores and spending long hours curled up in a dark smoky room with ominous music playing and Terminator statues in the corner, writing until the sky lightens to pre-dawn.

I know how much she loved Rob and loved playing 'mom' to him whenever she saw him; I know she would be so thrilled that I'm getting the chance to work beside him on this movie and that he's inspiring me to better myself, to strive for awesome things, to work hard and push my own limits and learn things faster than I'm used to simply because he believes I can do it and I don't want to let him down or give him a reason to think he made a bad choice in hiring me.

I think I miss her now more than I did when she first died and I was in that deep depression, because now I'm doing things. I'm living on my own, navigating a strange and beautiful city, absorbing everything about this place through my skin and eyes and ears, and she isn't here to share it with me. Some people will say "She is there with you" or "She does know, she's watching over you" but no one can be sure of things like that. Maybe when we die we watch over people and maybe we don't, maybe we just go back into the soil and that's where the story ends. But either way, I want to believe that she would be happy with the young woman I'm becoming, that she'd be proud of me. It keeps me going.

This depression hasn't really got its hooks in me yet, but it feels different than the others. I don't want to hurt myself or sabotage myself or whatever I always did before when I was depressed. I don't want to lie in bed and eat until my stomach cramps. I just want to write, or get out of the house and go explore the boulevard or go people-watch in a swanky little rockstar dive bar. I want to throw myself into life instead of pulling away from it. I want to laugh and love and find a place where I can realize She's gone but I'm going to be okay by myself and I think I'm almost getting there.

I feel like LA is where I belong. Of course I miss my Texas friends and what little family I have left, but this feels so much like a home for my heart. Everything about this place has enchanted me and I don't want to leave; just the idea of moving back to Texas right now makes my heart hurt a little.

I still feel out of sorts in my body. I don't like being naked with my boyfriend, even though he tries to make me feel sexy and tells me I am. It doesn't click, doesn't gel. All I see are my flaws. I know I've made progress, even the pictures with Rob are so hard to look at because I was fooling myself for years about how big I was, how big I was continuing to get. But now there is so much loose skin and I feel so self-conscious about it. Everyone can see it. It affects what I wear and how I wear it. It makes me feel ugly and like a freak.

My arms are gross, which really hinders my ability to wear cute tank tops or baby doll tees.

But nothing's as bad as my stomach region. To the point where when someone hugs me around the middle I stiffen up. I think I was actually less self-conscious about my stomach when I was still fat.

It's just skin, there's nothing underneath it. I'm 213 pounds and if we cut the skin off I bet I'd be more like 180. This isn't even counting my ass/thighs, hips, calves, and all of the other places that are retaining extra skin and cellulite. And I have no idea if I can afford body contour surgery anytime in the future; that's about $20K at the very least, and I'd probably go home to Texas to do it simply for cost reasons.

I feel stupid being this vain when I've lost almost 150 pounds in a year. I should be excited; I should be thrilled about being on the 'thin' side of my life (even though I'm still big by any standards and a fucking elephant compared to most of LA), but instead I sit here pinching at the skin and wishing I had a way to just get it off me.

I don't know if I'll ever truly be happy with what I look like, or if I'll feel sexy or confident or beautiful. It would be nice, but it kind of feels like a mental block that I have no idea if I can get around or not.